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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587003">Palette</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerwatson/pseuds/greerwatson'>greerwatson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Forever Knight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Related, Gen, Historical</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:01:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerwatson/pseuds/greerwatson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonardo da Vinci is commissioned to paint Janette.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Janette DuCharme/Nicholas Knight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Palette</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“If Signorina Gianetta would be so good as to turn her head slightly to the left,” said the artist, and hastily added, “No, no—to <i>your</i> left, <i>mia signorina</i>.”</p><p>
Janette shifted her pose a fraction.  
</p><p>
Leonardo critically inspected the new angle, stepping from one side to the other to gauge the best 

location for his easel.   Finally, he turned to Nicolas.   “Senor Niccolò, 

it would be better by far to paint the lady’s portrait by natural light.”   Seeing 

the expression on both faces, he added quickly, “I do not say that she should come to my 

studio.   Obviously, that would be unsuitable.   However, if the drapes might be opened?  

 When mixing pigments, it is always most accurate with the best light.”
</p><p>
For a long moment, Nicolas stared flatly.   Sunlight was obviously <i>not</i> suitable, given 

that he and Janette were vampires; but then there was no way for Leonardo to know that fact.  

 Nor had either of them any wish to explain, even with the intention of hypnotizing the artist 

later to forget what he’d been told.   After all, there was the 

possibility—slight but real—that he might prove a 

resistor; and then they would have to kill him.   At its simplest, doing so would not get the 

portrait painted; and Janette had promised it as a love-gift.   Moreover, though 

this mattered more to Nicolas than it did to Janette (and, oddly enough, mattered also to LaCroix, 

who had made his opinion clear), the untimely death of so great a creator as Leonardo da Vinci 

would rob posterity of the masterpieces he would have created.   To Nicolas, the loss of the 

man mattered; to LaCroix, the loss of his art.   In either case, this commission should not, 

<i>must</i> not, result in his death.
</p><p>
With a sharp sudden crack that startled Leonardo, Nicolas snapped his fingers to summon a servant.  

 “Bring more light,” he ordered.   “As many candelabra as you can find; 

and the best wax tapers.”   Turning to the artist, he said in a cool but polite tone, 

“Senorita Gianetta wishes her portrait to reflect the tones of the evening, as her gown 

suggests.”  
</p><p>
Discreetly, Janette rearranged its folds:   if Leonardo were unfamiliar with current fashion, 

then a point should be made.
</p><p>
“Natural light is not, therefore, suitable.   However, as you need more illumination for 

your work, it can and shall be provided.”  With that, Nicolas nodded a slight courtesy 

to Leonardo.   As the first of several servants entered, each with a pair of candelabra, he 

turned and left the room.
</p><p>
“So we shall make do, then,” said Leonardo thinly.   He turned to look again at 

his subject.   “I think that is a reasonable pose, <i>mia signorina</i>, providing you 

are able to hold it.”
</p><p>
“That will not be a problem,” declared Janette, raising her chin a faint fraction.  

 Nor was it, of course.   Like a cat stalking a bird, a vampire can keep still for as  

long as it takes.
</p><p>
As the servants began to light the candles, Leonardo made a first quick outline in chalk.  

 Then he began to lay out his palette.   “I shall begin with a mere sketch,” 

he said aloud, his attention on his paints.   “We can try different poses; and then you 

and your <i>fidanzato</i> can select the one you prefer for the portrait proper.”
</p><p>
Janette did not bother to respond.   It was the usual way, and needed no comment.
</p><p>
That, in the end, they were forced to flee Milan before more than the one sketch was 

complete—well, that was also the usual way.   The life of a vampire is 

punctuated with sudden departures.   Still, the one portrait, however rough, was carefully 

taken with them.   Eventually, it was framed and hung.   In the end, it lasted longer and 

was treasured more than their love.
</p><p>
Or maybe not.</p>
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